Silence
by beautiful.mind-broken.body
Summary: "All I remember is Steve clutching onto my hand before the wave smashed my head against the boulder. After that everything was dark and eerily quiet. After that, I never heard again." How would the lives of the Curtis brothers be different is Sodapop was deaf?
1. Chapter 1

_Hi everyone! This is a new story I've been working on. It's a little different, but I'm kind of interested to see what I could do with it. So read and review… let me know if I should continue with this story line of just scrap it._

**Ponyboy's POV:**

When I woke up, I tried to stay as still as possible. I even tried not to breathe. It was a game I played with Soda every morning. He might not have been able to hear me, but somehow he always knew right when I'd woken up. I always tried to trick him, to let him sleep just a little longer, but he still woke up every morning about a minute after I did.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but nevertheless, I felt Soda roll over beside me. I rolled onto my back too and glanced up at him. He already had that goofy looking grin plastered to his face.

"_I win," _He signed, by first pointing to himself, then making his hands into fists and hitting the top of the left with the bottom of the right.

I laughed and circled the air with my pointer finger which meant _always, _then climbed out of bed.

"Ponyboy, you better be out of that bed," I heard Darry yell from down the hall. "You got work in twenty minutes."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled peeling my t-shirt off.

He suddenly appeared at the door to me and Soda's room. "Listen, I gotta get going," He told me lowering his voice. I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he'd bother doing that since I was the only other one in the room who could hear him. "Walk Soda down to the Community Center before you go to work, okay?"

Darry didn't like Soda to go very far by himself, even if it was just to the Community Center where he spent his days teaching ASL to the other deaf kids in Tulsa. He'd started working there after his teachers labeled him "deaf and dumb." But Soda was anything but dumb. I'd seen him sign with college professors whose job was to teach people ASL, and even they had commented on his fluency and the eloquence with which his fingers moved to form his words.

Soda had even been offered a partial scholarship to one of the best deaf institutes in the country a few months back, but we didn't have the money to pay for the rest of the tuition. We hadn't even told Darry about it.

For some reason Darry and Soda had never been very close. He'd never really bothered to learn much sign language—just the basics so we could get by—so he and Soda really didn't have a way to communicate. I think Darry saw Soda as very helpless. He had always been very overprotective of him, and hesitant to let him do much for himself.

Sometimes I wished Darry would just take five minutes out of his day to practice signing or even ask Soda how his day was. It had always bothered Soda that he and Darry had never once had a real conversation without me translating for him. I don't think it was because Darry didn't care about Soda, I think he just didn't much understand.

I did though. I understood almost everything about Soda. I knew how smart he was, and I was determined to get him into that deaf school. I suppose that's why I dropped out of school and got the job at the DX with Steve.

I'd told Darry it was because I wanted to help out with the bills, which was partially true. But every extra dollar I made went into the old shoe box under me and Soda's bed. We counted it together every night before we went to sleep, just hoping that one night we would have enough.

"Sure Dar," I said buttoning my DX shirt up. "I'll walk with him. And I'll pick him up on my way home too."

Soda was looking from me to Darry blankly. Darry never moved his lips too much when he talked, so it was hard for Soda to read them and my back had been turned to him when I'd answered Darry. It always got on Soda's nerves when he didn't know what people were talking about.

I quickly turned around and explained what Darry had asked me, only to be practically assaulted as Soda's hands flew into a frenzied torrent of protesting signs.

"Tell him to slow down," Darry demanded. "What in the blue blazes is he saying?"

"_I don't need my kid brother to baby-sit me anymore!" _Soda was signing hastily. _"No one is going to try anything, he knows that!"_

It was true. While the rest of us scrapped with the neighborhood boys and got jumped by Socs, no one ever dared to lay a finger on Soda. He was friends with everyone, greasers and Socs alike and I doubted that there was anything anyone could do to change that.

"He thinks he should be able to walk to the Center by himself," I told Darry, signing as I said the words in the hopes that he would pick something up.

Darry quickly shook his head and brought his pointer and middle finger of his right hand together with his thumb right in front of Soda's face. _No_ had always been one of the signs Darry remembered.


	2. Chapter 2

It took Soda longer than usual to get ready that morning. Every few minutes he stopped what he was doing and flew into another agitated eruption of protesting signs.

"_It just ain't fair Ponyboy!" _He signed as I hastily handed him his favorite old hat and pushed him out the door. _"Darry doesn't get me; he never has. He's never even tried."_

"It ain't just you Sodapop," I sighed gently putting my hand on his shoulder. "Darry don't get me too much either. That's just the way he is."

Soda didn't look comforted by my words though.

"_Thank God you're around, Pony," _He signed with a grateful smile. _"Sometimes I think I'd go crazy if it weren't for you."_

I laughed to myself and shook my head. I always tried to be there for Soda though. I made sure to interpret everything that was said in front of him, no matter how trivial. I figured it was pretty rude for people to be having a conversation right in front of him and not even clue him as to what they were talking about. It wasn't too much of a problem these days though, as I'd taught most of the gang how to sign. The only one I hadn't really gotten to become fluent was Darry.

Suddenly a rusty green pickup came to a screeching halt beside us and Two-Bit stuck his head out the window. Soda instantly perked up. He really enjoyed signing with Two-Bit, who was actually pretty good at it. About seventy-five percent of ASL is in your facial expressions, and that was something Two-Bit had always been more than proficient in.

"Morning Pony," Two-Bit grinned wildly, then waved to Soda. With his pointer and middle finger, Soda pointed from his eyes to his wrist making Steve swear.

"He's right—we're gonna be late," He groaned.

Two-Bit jumped out of the truck and slung and arm around Soda's shoulder. "I'll walk the kid down to the rec center," He offered as I climbed into Steve's truck.

"Thanks Two-Bit," I said, then quickly signed to Soda that I'd meet him after I got out of work before Steve tore off down the street towards the shop.

"Soda and Darry get into it again?" Steve asked with a quick glance towards me.

I nodded. "Soda doesn't think he needs to be walked to work every day," I explained.

"Well of course he doesn't," Steve scoffed. "No one would dare to mess with ole Sodapop—Grease or Soc."

"Try explaining that to Darry," I muttered.

Steve shook his head. "He'll get it one of these days Pony," Steve said almost wistfully. "One of these days he's gonna wake up and realize what an amazing kid Soda is."

I nodded. "I sure hope so," I sighed as Steve swung the pickup into the parking lot of the gas station. Every time I walked through the doors of that DX I felt a little piece of me die off. It was killing me to have to be stuck in that dump day in and day out, but I'd do it for Soda. If it meant getting him out of Tulsa and into that deaf school I'd work at the gas station till I died.


	3. Chapter 3

Soda's POV:

By the time I got to work Two-Bit had all but gotten my mind off of how angry I was with Darry. Aside from Ponyboy, Two-Bit was my favorite person to talk to. His face was so expressive when he signed that it was easy for me to understand what he was talking about. The tricky part about hearing people using sign language is that a lot of the time there are signs that have multiple meanings and the only way I can know which one they mean is by reading their facial expressions. That was never a problem with Two-Bit though. He even made up his own signs when he didn't know how to say what he meant.

As we finally strolled up to the front door of the rec center, Two-Bit tousled my hair and signed that he'd probably be back to walk me home. I frowned and shook his hand off my shoulder, turning to walk into the building, but he caught me by the elbow and turned me back around.

"_Darry's just looking out for you kid,_" He signed, looking apathetic. "_Don't let it get to you."_

I just nodded and forced a grin to satisfy him, then waved goodbye and headed in through the front door. Before I'd even gotten through the double glass door I was taken by surprise as my favorite kid in the center tackled me around my middle.

He was ten, and his real name was Luke, but the name I knew him by was the name sign I'd given him two years earlier. In the deaf community, it takes much too long to have to fingerspell everyone's name every time you talk about them, so we give each other sign names. Mine was made by making the left hand into an "O," then bending the middle finger of the right hand at the large knuckle and sticking it into the left "O." Then you remove the middle finger and slap your right palm over the hole. It's not too original, it literally means "Sodapop."

Luke's was the letter "L" made with the thumb and pointer finger held up just above the ear and rotated up and down--like a stubborn donkey's ears twitching. I'd given it to him because when he'd first started coming to the center he was the most obstinate little brat I'd ever met. He was a greaser, he only lived a few blocks away from me with his mother.

His father had been in and out of jail since he'd been real little, but Luke had told me that it didn't bother him to much. He'd once told me that the first time he ever met his father was when he was when he was four. His father had seemed really excited to meet him, until he realized that his son was deaf. After that, Luke had said, his father had never so much as looked at him again.

Luke had been a real tough kid to get through to at first, but after working with him one-on-one for the past two years, he'd become almost as fluent as I was and a true joy to work with. Sometimes, when his mother was working a double shift at the restaurant, I'd walk with him over to my house until she could come pick him up. Our favorite game to play was while watching the television. We'd each pick someone to be in the show that was on and we'd sign back and forth to each other, each guessing at what they were really saying. Most of the time we got really silly and ended up cracking each other up.

Luke looked up at me, still clinging to my waist, his eyes full of trepidation.

__

"What's wrong?" I signed to him, kneeling down to his height.

__

"They're closing the rec center…" He signed back slowly, his eyes brimming with tears.


	4. Chapter 4

-1**Pony's POV:**

"The trans cooler is busted," Steve called from under the hood of the '47 Chevy we'd been working on all morning. "I'll get the car jacked up. You can start taking the cover off the radiator and just drop the cooler down the side."

I nodded and switched places with him. I'd just gotten the cover off the radiator and was about to start taking out the trans cooler when Steve came around to the front and suddenly knocked my hands away from where I was about to start working.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded. "You looking to kill yourself?"

I blinked at him, confused. Steve rolled his eyes and tapped on the battery, which was still connected.

"You might want to think about disconnecting this before you start working," He suggested sarcastically. "Unless you want to get zapped."

I sighed. I was always forgetting things like that, and Steve was always snapping at me for it. I set to work disconnecting the battery as Steve was digging a few brackets out to support the cooler.

We worked silently for a long time. It wasn't until we were about to attach the outboard hose that he spoke again. A car had just pulled in out front and was waiting for gas.

"All you have to do now is reassemble," He told me, then added, "Don't mess up, okay?"

I gritted my teeth, but just nodded. Steve hesitated for a minute, like he really didn't want to leave me of all people in charge of this job, but finally stalked off out front.

It must have gotten busy out front, because Steve was tied up for a good while. Long enough for me to put the car back together anyway.

When he came back into the shop from out front the seemed shocked that the car seemed to be back in order.

"You finished it?" He asked scratching his head and I nodded.

He circled the car a few times, looking for anything that was obviously out of place. Then, finding nothing, he turned to me again.

"Alright," He nodded shortly. "Drop the car and I'll check for leaks."

I hurried to the back of the car, releasing the jack and letting the car return to its rightful place on the ground as Steve climbed into the driver's seat and started it. I decided to stay well out of Steve's way while he was checking my work. I'd learned at least that much since I'd started working with him.

"Looks good kid," He finally called slamming the hood shut.

I grinned. "You mean I actually did something right?" I asked and he elbowed me jokingly.

"Yeah, well don't let it go to your head," He half-smiled back. "I'm sure you'll mess something else up real soon."

I settled for rolling my eyes at him instead of shooting back something smart about the Dodge he'd practically destroyed when he'd first started working.

With no customers and the Chevy taken care of, we wound up sitting on the pumps out front sipping on icy cold bottles of Coke.

"You know Soda's birthday is coming up pretty soon," Steve said after a while. "We ought to do something nice for him."

I nodded in agreement.

"That's not to say you don't already do a lot for him though Pony," He said quickly and I looked up at him. "I mean it. I know you hate working here."

"I don't-" I started to deny it, but he stopped me.

"You were made for more than this place," He said quietly. "I know why you're here every day. I get it."

We were both silent for a minute before Steve slid off the pump and stood with his back to me, looking down the road towards the lake.

"It's just good of you to do it," Steve finally said hurriedly. "Soda means a lot to me--to everyone. It's nice to know you've got his back is all."

I smiled to myself. I wasn't doing it for the praise; I was doing it for my brother. But it was still nice to hear something like that once in a while though. Maybe it would make coming back to the DX every morning that much easier.

"C'mon," Steve said gruffly as he started to walk up the drive. "Get back to work."


	5. Chapter 5

**Darry's POV:**

Flashback.

Eight years earlier:

_"Come on Soda," Mom was saying as her hands flew expertly into different positions that I could never remember. "You've got to get dressed. We're late."_

_Soda was lying in the middle of the kitchen floor in his underwear being completely uncompliant. He'd only been deaf for a year then. I guess he'd gotten frustrated with his tutor earlier in the morning because he hadn't been able to understand the concept she'd been trying to teach him. Soda was always like that though. Every time he didn't pick something up easily he was quick to just throw in the towel. Most of the time things ended in a tantrum, much like the one he was having now. For a ten-year-old, he should have known better. At least that's what I thought anyways._

_"We don't have time for this Mom," I sighed leaning up against the front door. We were supposed to have left for my first football practice ten minutes ago. If there was one thing I hated, it was being late for things. For some reason it made me really embarrassed. Besides, I was finally twelve, which meant that I was going to be playing in junior midget instead of pee-wee again. _

"_I know Darry," Mom answered sounding slightly irritated. "Why don't you help Pony put his shoes on?"_

_I sighed again, louder this time, but grabbed Pony's shoes off the floor. Soda always pulled this crap when we had somewhere to be, it seemed like. _

"_Pony!" I yelled down the hall, a little more harshly than I'd intended and, after a look from Mom, quickly changed my tone. "Come on, little buddy. Let's get your shoes on."_

_Pony came running down the hall with a big smile on his face. He might have been even more excited than I was for football season to start, but--at eight-years-old--everything was new and exciting to him.._

"_Is it time to go yet?" He asked anxiously as he plopped onto the floor and started forcing his little feet into his shoes._

_"It was 'time to go' ten minutes ago," I muttered and he looked worried._

_"You mean we're not going?" He asked, his voice shooting up a note._

_"We're going!" Mom called from the kitchen sounding even more frustrated than before. "As soon as Soda gets his clothes on."_

_We both looked around the corner to where Mom was trying to force Soda's head through the neck of his shirt. He was fighting against her tooth and nail though. Suddenly Mom stopped and looked up at us hopefully._

_"Ponyboy!" She cried and he smiled. "Pony, be a dear and tell Soda to put his clothes on, would you?"_

_Her tone sounded like she was trying to convince Pony that this would be something fun for him to do and he seemed to believe her. He fell to his knees beside Soda and shook him on the shoulder. Soda stopped crying and kicking almost immediately. He always listened to Ponyboy. Pony's little fingers made clumsy motions, but Soda could still understand him. He signed back making a frustrated noise with the last slap or his right hand against his left. Pony nodded and signed something quickly that got a big grin out of Soda and a disaproving look from Mom. Pony handed Soda his pants and Soda slipped his arms through the sleeves of his shirt. _

_I glanced at the clock above the stove and started tapping my foot. Practice had been started for a full six minutes and we hadn't even left the house yet. Pony ran past me out to the car as Soda finished kicking his shoes on. Mom bustled down the hall way to find her purse, grabbing the keys on her way as if nothing was wrong. But then, it never mattered if I was late or if I missed out on something. It never mattered how I felt as long as Soda was happy. That was all anyone cared about. Just then Soda loped past me on his way out to the car. Before I really realzied what I was doing, I pinched him-hard. He stopped short and make a surprised sounding noise, then looked up at me slowly. I started to glare back at him fiercely, but froze. His chocolatey brown eyes were filled with questions-- like he really didn't understand why I was so mad at him. For a minute I didn't even know why I was so mad at him, then I remembered that he ruined everything. Suddenly Mom came flying back down the hall, but paused when she saw us._

_"What's going on?" She asked me and signed to Soda._

_I immediately looked at the ground, suddenly ashamed. I knew Mom would have a fit once Soda told her what I'd done. I stole another look at him and he was still staring at me. Then he quickly signed something to Mom and flashed her a grin and slipped past me out to the car where he and Pony jumped into the back seat together._

_"Come on Darry," She smiled, reassured that everything was okay with Soda. "We can go now."_

_"Great Mom," I thought and followed her outside. "Just great."_

_Hey everyone! Sorry it took so long to update, and sorry this is so short. Just trying to give a little background as to why Darry and Soda aren't that close, and why he and Pony have such a special bond. I'll try to update again ASAP! x3 hannie_


	6. Chapter 6

**Soda's POV:**

"It's not that we're closing the center completely Soda," Maggie signed hastily between sorting though a thick stack of papers on her desk. "We're just downsizing. There's not enough money in the budget this year for us to be able to keep running all the programs."

I set my jaw and stared at her. Maggie—one of the directors at the rec center—was the buxom, grandmotherly type that all the kids flocked too. She always wore purple and sneakers with her skirts and kept a pencil tucked into the middle of her silvery bun. I'd liked her face since the first time I met her for some reason. She had deep wrinkles around her eyes from smiling so much and rosy cheeks to rival Santa Claus. She was a hearing person, but she was as fluent and me and Luke were. She'd told me once that she'd had a son that was deaf.

Maggie had been the one to offer me my job at the center in the first place, and now she was telling me that I might not be welcome there anymore. I couldn't understand it.

"Don't you look at me like that Sodapop Curtis," I could tell she was saying this forcefully as her hands flew through the air. "I don't like this anymore than you, and I don't have any more control over it than you do either."

I touched all of my fingertips to my forehead, then pulled them away slightly, tucking my three middle fingers down and leaving my thumb and pinkie out. I did this with sharper movements than I usually would so she'd know how angry I was.

"Don't ask me why, Soda," She signed, her eyes pleading with me. "I wish more than anything that there was something I could do. But don't get excited just yet. The city council hasn't even told us which programs are being cut. Ben still hasn't made his recommendation."

"_Ben?_" I signed his name by making my hands into an "L" shape and moving them exaggeratedly from the nape of my neck to the top of my forehead. It was literally showing that Ben had a big head, or that he was full of himself. Ben didn't know that much though.

Maggie looked at me disapprovingly. She didn't like that me and Luke used that sign for his name.

"_Why does Ben get to make the recommendation?_" I asked her. "_It's not fair; he can't stand me or any of my kids. My program is going to be the first to go._"

Maggie stopped filing her papers and touched my arm for a minute. "He has seniority over me Soda," She explained patiently. "But like you or not, he'll be fair when he makes his recommendation."

"_Who's to say that basketball is more important than educating these kids anyways?_" I demanded, starting to sign more emphatically as I got more worked up. "_This is the only place they have left Maggie! Everywhere else they go they're labeled as deaf and dumb. They can just be kids here..._"

I let my arms drop to my sides and hung my head. I hated to admit it, but I needed this place just as much as my kids did. Maggie knew that though. Maggie always seemed to know and understand everything.

Just then Ben walked into the office carrying a thermos in one hand and a brown bagged lunch in the other. He was wearing his customary collared, button-down shirt with every button done right up to his neck and his paisley tie knotted so tight that it looked like it was choking him. It always amazed me that he'd managed to lose all of the hair off the top of his head and none from the sides or the back.

He made a big deal of putting his lunch down on his desk and trying to sign "good morning" to me. Instead he signed "thank you tree." I looked past him to Maggie and she shot me another warning glare, so I half-smiled and signed "thank you tree" back to him.

I nudged Luke, who had been sitting in front of Maggie's desk with his hands over his eyes. Luke had a bad habit of eavesdropping. We always had to be aware of where he was and what he was doing as it was hard to keep him from seeing what we were talking about.

I made my left hand into an "L" and moved it in a circle before me, which got a flurry of objecting signs to come shooting out of Luke's hands and Ben looked at him like he was crazy for a minute. Luke hated being in the library more than anything though and—to tell you the truth-- so did I. But the other kids were waiting and he did have a lot of make-up work to get through so I held a stern hand up to him and pointed out the door. He wasn't happy about it, but he still got up and headed down the hall to the small reading room we'd come to know as our library. I started to follow after him but stopped to glance back at Maggie. Instead I saw Ben, sifting though a stack of letters on his desk. His lips moved as if he was disgusted. I tried to read them, but only caught, "...Goddamn retard kids."

"_Sure Maggie,_" I thought as I headed for the library. "_He'll be real fair alright._"


	7. Chapter 7

Hey, sorry it's taken so long to update. I've been so ridiculously busy. Hope you enjoy this! Please, R&R... it helps encourage me to write more. 3 Hannie

**Soda's POV:**

Flashback.

Nine years earlier:

"_He's still following us," Steve grumbled, looking back as we weaved through the trees._

_I glanced back at my little brother who was trying desperately to keep up with our longer strides and also remain out of sight. I couldn't help but grin even though I knew it bothered Steve when he tagged along._

"_Pone, you know Mom said you weren't allowed out here," I called and he dove behind a tree as if I wouldn't notice he was there. _

_Steve let out an irritated sigh and grabbed me by my arm, pulling me after him. "Let's go down by the river. He won't be able to follow us there."_

_Suddenly Pony jumped out from behind the tree, his eyes wide. "But Daddy said you're not supposed to play by the river," he cried. _

"_Your pops don't have to find out," Steve growled advancing on Pony until he was towering over him. "Does he?"_

_Pony bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "I won't tell," he solemnly promised us. "We'll just be real careful."_

"_We?" Steve laughed. "You ain't coming with us."_

_I nodded in agreement. "You're too little," I told him. "You're just going to get us in trouble. Go on back home."_

_Pony looked devastated. _

"_I'll play army with you when I get back, okay?" I offered, trying to make him feel better, but I only made him mad._

"_I don't want to play army," he yelled. "I want to go to the river with you."_

_Suddenly Steve had pushed him and he'd fallen back against a tree looking shocked. _

"_Let's go Soda," he said gruffly and started down the steep path to the river._

_I glanced at Ponyboy, who looked so small against the giant base of the tree. "Just go home Pony," I hissed at him--partly angry that he'd gotten Steve all riled up--then chased after my friend._

_He was already at the bottom of the embankment taking his sneakers off. By the time I made it to the riverbed he was splashing around in the cool water._

"_Hurry up Soda," he called, laughing as he kicked water up at me. _

_I grinned and hastily tore my shirt off then plopped down to get my shoes off too. It had been one of the hottest summers in years and the water from the river felt amazing. _

_We splashed around for a while until we both got tired and fell to our knees in a shallow pool._

"_We better stay close to the bank," Steve noted as he wiped some dripping water out of his eyes. "There's a real strong undertow if you go much further out."_

_I nodded. It had rained all last week and the river was swollen moving a lot quicker than it usually did. It would be real easy to get swept away._

"_Your shadow is back," Steve sighed nodding towards the trail, where Ponyboy was trying to clamber down the trail without falling. I felt bad that Pony was ruining Steve's good time._

"_We'll just ignore him," I suggested. "He'll get bored soon enough and go home."_

_Steve agreed and we started looking for rocks to skip. By this time Pony had made it down to the riverbed and was peeling his clothes off too. He seemed to realize that it probably wasn't in his best interest to try to play with us, so he settled for wading into the water by himself. _

_I can still, to this day, remember the sound of Pony's desperate scream as he waded out too far and slipped under. It felt like we were on auto-pilot as Steve and I dropped our rocks and raced down the shallow pools towards where we'd last seen Pony's head fighting to stay above the rolling river. I dove into the deeper water and swam with the current towards my brother as Steve leapt from rock to rock closer towards the shore. _

"_Pony!" I remember screaming between mouthfuls of water. "Pony, grab my hand!"_

_The look of sheer terror in his eyes only made me fight harder to latch onto his arm. I had to stop him from going any further downstream where the current picked up and there were more rocks to hit. With my free arm I tried desperately to hold onto something--anything, but everything was too slippery. I wrenched my neck around, searching for anything protruding from the water and finally saw the waves breaking on a rock jutting out from the water. I swam hard, trying to pull myself and Pony closer to our only chance at getting out of the current. If I could just get to that rock I knew Steve could pull Pony out of the water. _

_I tried to keep his head out of the water as we moved much faster than I would have liked towards the rock. I pulled Pony to the side, letting my body get smashed against the it, but there was no time to worry about my scraped up knees and elbows as I frantically tried to find a place to hold onto the rock. Finally my fingers found a crack and I jammed them in as far as they would go, still holding Pony's arm with my other hand. _

_I could see Steve dashing through the water towards us and prayed that he would make it to us before my fingers gave in and we got swept away again. _

"_Give me your hand Soda," Steve screamed as he made it to the rock closest to the one we were clinging to._

"_No," I sputtered as the waves broke on my face, knocking my head against the side of the rock. I used the last bit of my strength to drag Pony through the water to Steve's outstretched arms. "Get him out first!"_

_Steve didn't hesitate, just yanked my little brother out of the water in one fluid motion. I was so glad that he'd gotten away from the tide that I didn't see the next big wave ready to break against the rock. All I remember is Steve clutching onto my hand before the wave smashed my head against the boulder. After that everything was dark and eerily quiet. After that, I never heard again. _


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for all the awesome reviews! Keep them coming to keep me writing J Hannie

**Steve's POV:**

When lunch finally rolled around Pony and I were both filthy. Pony had forgotten to put a pan under the drain plug while doing an oil change and I'd spent most of my morning in the pit working on someone's radiator.

I glanced at my watch around the same time my stomach began to grumble and whistled to Pony, who was just finishing pumping someone's gas.

"Let's get cleaned up and break for lunch," I called to him and he nodded back.

To be honest, I didn't much mind having the kid around. Sure, he was kind of spacey but I couldn't help but respect the way he'd stepped up to help Soda out. Pony didn't know it, but Soda had told me all about the scholarship and how they'd been saving money one day after Pony'd had a particularly rough day in the shop.

"I just don't get it, Soda," I'd signed to him, somewhat irritated. "He obviously hates being there. Why the hell does he go back every day? He's only making my job that much harder."

Soda, in an effort to help me understand the kid, had explained everything to me that day. After that I tried not to badger him as much.

By the time I'd managed to scrub most of the grease and grime off of my hands and out from under my fingernails, Pony had finished with his customer and set to work beside me cleaning himself off.

I watched him in the mirror while I finished drying my hands. He looked a lot older than just sixteen. You could see how much he carried around with him in everything he did. He even made washing up look like the biggest burden in the world. He looked how I felt after a run in with my father.

We wound up sitting in the hood of an ancient Studebaker to eat our lunches. Pony sat quietly eating his sandwich, his eye narrowed in an effort to block out the sun. It only made the bags under his eyes more noticeable. He caught me looking at him, and I instinctively scowled at him, kicking at his lunch bag.

"Darry still pack you a lunch?" I teased and he frowned in such a way that you would have thought I'd killed his dog.

I felt a slight pang of regret, then slid off the hood of the car.

"I bet he still cuts your crusts off too," I added for good measure as I stalked away.

Some things would never change no matter what happened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Pony's POV:**

_I remember being at the hospital--wet, and waiting with Darry and Steve while Mom and Dad talked to the doctor. _

_After Steve had pulled Soda out of the water we'd both known something was wrong. There was blood spilling out from his ears and we couldn't get him to open his eyes._

"_Pony, go get your parents," Steve ordered as he struggled to drag Soda closer to the shore. He looked so pale._

_I don't remember climbing up from out of the riverbed, or racing through the woods and down the street to my house. I don't remember yelling for someone, anyone, to help my brother. I still can't remember how we all got back down to where Steve was hovering over Soda's limp body. The doctors think I must have blocked it out. _

_I do remember the way my father picked him up though. He lifted him from the rocks so carefully, not even caring that his best white work shirt was now splashed in red. My mother was sobbing and clinging to my hand. I remember Steve taking her other hand so she would stop stumbling across the rocks in her bare feet._

_Dad sent Mom along with Soda in the ambulance while the rest of us packed into the station wagon and followed close behind. Steve sat next to the window and tried not to let any of us see that he was bawling. I hadn't understood how serious things were at that point. _

_I later __found out that they diagnosed Soda with __Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss. It only effects one ear in nine out of ten people with a brain injury. Soda was unluckily that tenth person who was effected in both ears. _

_The doctors were hopeful at first, assuring my mother that in most cases, people spontaneously recovered within three days. When Soda still couldn't hear anything after those first three days, the doctors told us that in 85 of all cases patients would slowly get better in one to two weeks. _

_After three weeks it seemed like everyone had given up hope, and my father had to convince my mother that it was time to bring Soda home and try to get on with our lives. _

_At first Mom wouldn't let him out of her site. She tried to keep him in bed, but that had only lasted for a few hours before Soda was bouncing up and down, eager to return to playing like he'd used to. It was another week before my mother let us out of the house to play again. _

"_Let's go to the park Pone," Soda said a lot louder than he'd probably meant to. Not being able to hear himself, he'd been having trouble controlling the level of his voice. He'd also started making strange noises, most of the time not even knowing that he was doing it. _

_When we'd gotten to the park a few kids from around the neighborhood were there playing Red Rover. Most of them stopped to look at us as we crossed the sidewalk to the grass. It was a pretty close knit neighborhood and almost everyone had heard about Soda already._

"_Hey guys!" Soda yelled loudly, but as cheerfully as ever. "Mind if we play too?"_

_Tim Sheppard stepped forward with a nasty scowl on his face. "You don't gotta yell," He snarled. "_We_ can hear just fine."_

_A general snicker arose from the other kids and I instinctively reached up and clutched Soda's hand. He looked confused. I don't think he'd expected them to make fun of him._

"_He can't play," Curly had chimed in. "He won't even be able to hear us call him over."_

_The kids laughed louder this time and I tugged on Soda's hand, trying to get him to just come home with me. He frowned, and started making the strange noises again. The kids all stopped and stared at him, wide eyed. Soda stopped making the noises quick enough and turned bright red as the kids started howling with laughter. It was like Soda _just_ understood that just because he couldn't hear himself didn't mean we couldn't. _

_After that day in the park Soda refused to speak again. That fall, when Soda tried to go back to school like a normal kid, the administration refused him, calling him deaf and dumb. My mother had been furious and went about hiring a tutor to teach him how to sign and keep him up to date on his school work. It was around that time that Soda started throwing terrific fits any time he was frustrated or didn't understand something right away. It was around that time that he and Darry started drifting…_


	10. Chapter 10

Darry's POV:

Usually, when it rains, I'm out of a paycheck. I literally have to have the weekly forecast in front of me while I try to figure out our budget for the week. We all hated dismal weather predictions and cursed the sight of dark rain clouds approaching on the horizon. We all knew wet conditions meant peanut butter sandwiches for lunch and pork and beans for dinner. Without work, we couldn't afford much more.

It bothered me some that Pony had to help out with the bills when he belonged in school. With the mortgage payments piling up and no oil in the furnace, though, none of us had much choice in the matter. I'd convinced him to start night school by correspondence, but he was only doing one class at a time, seeing as how he was practically exhausted by the time he got out of work anyhow. At that rate, it would be another four years before he'd be eligible to receive his diploma.

Soda helped some too, but the peanuts they paid him at the center was only a little more than pocket money. I couldn't understand for the life of me why he'd ever agreed to teach a bunch of snot-nosed kids how to sign, but seeing how he really couldn't do much else for work and it kept him from wandering the streets all day, I didn't mind. At least I knew where he was, and that he was safe, and that one of the gang would be around to escort him there and back.

It wasn't that I didn't trust Soda. I guess, if it really came down to it, he could hold his own in a brawl. The fact of the matter was that I didn't trust every other low-life hoodlum out prowling the streets. Soda was exactly the kind of defenseless victim they'd be looking for.

I know Soda took it personal, but I didn't mind him being sore at me, if it meant he was safe. Besides, there was no way for me to explain to him all of the reasons why I had to be so protective. It wasn't exactly a conversation I wanted to have Pony translating for us, and I'd never been good at signing, anyway.

Luckily, the rain had held off for most of the day and-to be honest-I wasn't too worked up about getting to knock off early. I figured on stopping by the DX to pick Pony up before going to collect Soda at the center.

Pulling into the station, I could see both Steve and Pony in the garage. Pony looked like he was cleaning spark plugs, while Steve was lounging with a magazine in an armchair he'd fashioned out of old tires. Business slowed down for them too in inclement weather.

"What're you doing here?" Pony asked when he saw me, genuinely surprised.

"Boss called off the job when it started raining. Thought you might want to go pick Soda up and grab a pizza for dinner," I answered, knocking the magazine out of Steve's hands when I realized the obscene content.

"Hey!" he groused and started to get up to retrieve it.

I snatched it up before he could get to it, though, and tossed it into the waste oil tub. "I don't want you reading that filth around him, you hear?" I gave Steve the same look I give Soda and Pony when I'm serious about something.

"Aw, lay off him, Darry," Pony grinned. "It ain't like its some big secret, or nothing. Let me wash up and we can head out of here."

I nodded and decided to wait for him in the truck. Sometimes Steve and I butted heads, and I truly wasn't in the mood to be toyed with. I'd pulled almost every muscle in my back earlier in the morning and I could feel things starting to tighten up where they shouldn't. A long, hot shower and an effortless pizza dinner were the only two things I had on my mind.

Pony was at my door, then, dripping from the rain.

"What in the world are you doing, standing out there in the pouring rain?" I demanded. "Get in the damn truck before you freeze to death."

Pony bit his bottom lip, wiping some drops off his brow.

"I called Maggie at the rec center to let Soda know we're on our way," he started.

"Well, good. Let's go get him," I urged him, not understanding the issue.

Pony finally met my eyes. "He ain't there…"


	11. Chapter 11

Soda's POV:

Sometimes silence can be just as loud as a crowd of thousands. It's harder to get away from your thoughts that way; there's nothing to distract you.

Somehow, I'd managed to make it through the day for the kids, but the last thing I wanted to do was wait around in the office with Ben and Maggie for someone from Darry's babysitting service to show up. I hadn't even waited for Luke's mother to pick him up before I'd busted out of the back door and headed down the alley towards home. Call me crazy, but for some reason I didn't particularly want to be walked home like a mutt from the kennel.

Besides, I wasn't the only one who would be troubled by the thought of my being out of a job, and I wasn't itching to tell Pony or Darry. While Pony would only be frustrated at the thought of it taking even longer for us to be able to save up any dough, Darry was sure to take it a step further.

As if he didn't worry himself needlessly enough with my safety, he'd have this to agonize over too. "_What ever am I gonna do with my dim-witted brother now?"_

I was tired of being a burden on him. Pony tried hard not to make me feel that way, but I wasn't blind to everything he'd had to give up, either. I guess part of me knew he'd always felt guilty and responsible for what had happened that day at the river. It almost seemed like he believed that guilt would go away if he could get me back into school somehow, but over the years those dreams had really become his more than mine.

I stopped walking as I realized it was raining pretty hard. I figure it had been ever since I'd left the rec center, but I'd only just noticed then. My shoes were soaked straight through to my socks and water was trickling down my back now. I slowly realized that I wasn't even walking the right way to get home.

Looking around, I saw the dim glow and flicker of a neon sign across the creek bed. I'd never been to Buck's before, but I'd seen through the windows with Pony-when we were younger-and heard plenty of stories from Steve and Two-Bit about what went on there.

I stood there, ankle-deep in a puddle, trying to keep the rainwater from streaming into my eyes, when I felt a gruff hand take me by the shoulder.

I stiffened, seeing Darry's unyielding face flash in my mind. I'd scoffed at him and staunchly declared my bravery all those times that he'd warned me not to walk alone. At that moment, however, I wasn't as fearless as I'd thought and wished fiercely that I'd obeyed him and was still sitting dry and safe in the office of the rec center.

Before I even had my wits, I'd been spun around and was face-to-face with Dallas Winston.

He was holding his leather jacket over his head-probably to protect his cigarette. Automatically, I reached out and plucked it from between his teeth, desperately needing a drag. Dally's face went from dumbstruck to furious in a matter of seconds, as he hauled me through

the rain and into the front door of Buck's.

He stomped around for a minute, shaking his coat out and attempting to slick his hair back, before turning to me. He held his hands up and widened his eyes at me as if to ask, "_What the hell were you doing out there?"_

I shrugged and resigned myself to studying the grain of the wood floors, hoping he wouldn't press me for answers. Dally looked around, running his hands through his hair once more, then took me by the shoulder again, guiding me towards the bar.

As we sat side-by-side, and the barmaid slid me my first ever shot of whiskey, I silently thanked God for people like Dallas Winston.


	12. Chapter 12

**Pony's POV:**

"Of all the times for Soda to pull this bullshit…" I thought crossly to myself. Straight off, I'd made one dumb mistake at work and Steve hadn't let up for the rest of the day.  
I was wading through ankle-deep water halfway between our place and Johnny's. It hardly ever rained in Tulsa this time of year, so-when it did-the scorched soil couldn't hold what fell out of the sky and it wound up pooling in any low-lying areas.  
Darry had been the one to send me out here I remembered, and my annoyance shifted to him. When Soda had turned up missing from the rec center, he'd about gone wild. We'd cruised every street and alley between the center and home, peering through fogged-over windows, with no sign of him anywhere.  
At one point Two-Bit had showed up, and I'd been assigned to recruit Johnny's help as he and Darry continued the search in his truck.  
"Hey! Pony!" I heard Johnny call out as I neared his house.  
I waved back, relieved that his parents probably weren't home.  
"What are you walking around in the rain for?" Johnny asked as I climbed the steps to his sagging front porch.  
"Soda's missing," I told him, wiping the rainwater from my brow. "Darry and Two-Bit are out looking for him now. You haven't seen him?"  
Johnny shook his head, his shaggy black hair sweeping over his now wide eyes. "Steve?" he asked.  
I shook my head too. "We just left him at the DX."  
Johnny took a breath. "You don't think-"  
"No, man," I answered quickly. "No one would mess with ole Sodapop. You know that."  
Johnny hurriedly nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I know."  
We stood there for a minute before Johnny pulled his jeans jacket on and pointed out that we weren't too likely to find him hanging around on the porch.  
"Maybe he's walking that little deaf kid home again," Johnny offered, so we started out towards Luke's first.  
The thing I like most about Johnny is that he knows when to keep quiet. As I childishly stomped through the rain, silently cursing Soda, Darry-even Zeus as lighting flashed overhead-, I didn't particularly care to keep up a polite conversation.  
Things didn't get much better after we got no answer at Luke's front door. To escape the downpour, we wound up huddled together in the doorway of an empty storeroom sharing a cigarette.  
"What now?" Johnny asked, swatting at one of the million mosquitoes drawn out by the rain.  
I took a deep drag of the cigarette, searching my brain for anywhere else that Soda might have run off to. Part of me knew that there wasn't hardly a point in looking for him; he'd turn up when he wanted to be found.  
The familiar rumble of Darry's old truck drew us out from the doorway into the rain again. Johnny stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out a blaring whistle, making the truck about-face in such a way that I immediately knew it wasn't Darry behind the wheel.  
"Come on, kid," Two-Bit called through the half-open window. "Soda turned up at your place and Darry's really letting him have it."


	13. Chapter 13

Dally's POV:

It wasn't much like me to pick up strays but, then, it was just as unusual to find Sodapop by his lonesome in the pouring rain. When he swiped the smoke straight from my mouth, I actually thought about decking him. Somehow, though, we wound up sipping whiskey at Buck's-which I'd figured was better than him standing around in the rain, and definitely better than me laying him out.

It wasn't until I had to try to get him home that I second-guessed my decision to give the kid booze. It wasn't that I was worried how Darry was gonna throw a fit at the sight of him; I just wasn't too keen on him loosing his lunch in my new wheels.

The drive home was silent, except for the pounding of the rain and the wipers squeaking. Soda kept his head against the window as we drove. It wasn't until we passed the DX that he realized where I was taking him.

He sat up, shaking his head, then looked over at me. I could feel him staring, but I kept my eyes on the road. It's easy to ignore a deaf person, if you just don't look at them. Besides, I'd done my civic duty for the day. It was someone else's turn.

I hadn't expected Darry to be waiting on the porch, and I wasn't too thrilled at the lecture he was sure to dole out, but it would probably make getting Soda out of the car a hell of a lot easier.

Darry was off the porch and in the driveway before I'd even gotten the car into park. Soda groaned as Darry wrenched the door to the car open, plainly searching for any signs of obvious injury, then pausing to sniff him. In an incredibly bold move, Soda shook him off and pushed past him into the house.

It was only then that Darry turned to me, his jaw clenching a few times before he spoke. "He's drunk?" was all he could manage.

I shrugged, mostly in an attempt to convince Darry that a few shots of whiskey weren't the worst thing in the world for the kid. Darry motioned for me to follow him into the house and, for a second, I thought about getting back into my car and blowing him off. After all, I'd just rescued his invalid kid-brother-at least from pneumonia-and this was the thanks I got? Something in the way Darry was carrying himself told me today was not the right day to cross him, though, so I grudgingly stomped through the rain after him, stopping on the porch to light another cigarette.

Darry didn't bother to wait for me to come inside to start laying into Soda, though. He yelled so loud, I was sure even Soda could hear him. I stood there on the porch, letting the wind burn the paper off my cigarette faster than I could have smoked it, until Two-Bit retreated to the relative safety of the porch too.

We exchanged looks as Darry paced before the window, his arms thrashing as he repeatedly signed "irresponsible" and "stupid." We'd all seen Soda or Pony get bawled out by Darry at one time or another, but no one yelled at Sodapop like that; just like I couldn't deck him for stealing my cancer stick.

Two-Bit took a breath as Darry's ranting got even louder. "I'm going to round up Ponyboy," he told me. "I ain't never seen Darry this mad."

I figured maybe Two-Bit was right, and I should take my leave before Darry got around to me but, then, the door swung open and Darry ordered me inside too with a look that rivaled that of some of the toughest men in the Bronx. From experience, I knew to keep my mouth shut and follow orders.


	14. Chapter 14

**Pony's POV:**

Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder three-deep in the front seat of Darry's pick-up-which stunk of roofing tar-and dripping wet, I realized how much I truly missed our parents.

Even against the pounding of the rain, we could all hear Darry yelling as we pulled into the driveway. Johnny mumbled something about needing to get home and Two-Bit-of course-couldn't let him walk all that way in the rain, so I was sent in to face the wolves alone.

Forced to run from the truck to the porch to avoid the downpour, I stood there for a minute. Then I realized, horrified, that Darry was yelling that loud at _Dally_. I'd never heard anyone yell at Dallas Winston before.

"Ponyboy, would you get in here?" Darry roared, pushing the screen door open so hard that it crashed into the wall behind it and slapped shut again. I didn't know he'd seen me run up.

Cautiously, I entered the living room. Dally stood before the entryway to the kitchen, his hands clenched in his pockets, looking as cold as ever. I knew it must be taking a lot for him to be able to just stand there and yet Darry yell.

Soda looked slightly crumpled on the couch, his cheeks bright pink. I touched my middle fingers to my chest then turned my hands up and out, looking at him imploringly.

"I'll tell you what happened," Darry roared, and I was almost impressed that he recognized the sign. "Soda decided to take off to Buck's after work to have a few drinks."

I felt my jaw drop. Besides the fact that we'd been lectured countless times against drinking, we'd both been promised beatings within inches of our lives if we were ever caught anywhere near Buck's.

Remembering myself, I turned back to Soda, who looked up at me through thickly-lidded eyes and _smirked_. I jabbed a finger towards him then lifted my cupped hand to my mouth as if I were drinking.

"_You're drunk?" _I demanded, suddenly angry that he'd worried us for nothing.

Soda nodded, sloppily beginning to sign an explanation, but Darry cut him off with a wave of his arms.

"Ask him what the hell he was thinking," Darry barked, and I quickly translated.

Soda shrugged, rubbing at his eyes. He touched is fingertips to his chest, then let them slump down. Standing up, he put his palms together beside his head and made a move towards the bedroom.

Darry was across the room in two giant strides, catching him by the arm and slamming him back onto the couch.

"I don't care how tired you are," he roared. "You will sit there until I tell you to move."

Soda looked shocked that Darry had shoved him. The surprise must have sobered him up a bit, because he suddenly exploded into a flourish of erratic signs. At the same time, Dally must have decided he'd kept his mouth shut long enough because he suddenly decided to take up for Soda-which Darry didn't like too much at all.

My head spun as Soda jumped up again, his hands moving a mile a minute, while Darry and Dally stood toe-to-to hollering like nothing I'd ever heard before. I wished wildly for my father to come hulking through the doorway and put everything right again.

Instead, Darry finally let out a yell to end all others; "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, sweeping his arms closed, and a silence fell over the house. He turned to me.

"You tell him I've never been more disgusted in my life," Darry said in a low, even voice. "Tell him that our mother and father would be ashamed of him."

I hesitated.

"Look, Dar-" Dally started.

"Tell him!" Darry screamed, and I obeyed_. _

Soda didn't react for a moment. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted icily to Darry. I held my breath.

"I hate you," he spoke aloud.


End file.
